


Suffer the Children

by MrsMars



Category: Original Work, Suffer the Children
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drug Abuse, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMars/pseuds/MrsMars
Summary: At The Marchaire Institute for Troubled Children, difficult children are given a choice: Juvenile detention, or the Institute. Violent children, the mentally ill, the damaged, the abused, all are welcome and all are cured. The nurses are gentle, the security is alert, and the doctors are dedicated. Madeline Adelle enters this world with a murky history and the belief that she doesn't belong here. Will the isolation, her peers, or the supposed hauntings drive her mad, or will her curious doctor unravel her past and free her from it first?





	1. Arrival of the Fittest

**Author's Note:**

> Suffer the Children was a forum RP game I enjoyed in the mid to late 2000’s. The game was not of my design, but since I can’t remember half of the fine details, I hope that any who could claim creators’ rights will see this as more of a memorial then of any overstep. Madeline was my character, and it is through her eyes that I will try to do the game justice. 
> 
> This chapter has no trigger warnings, but when they do, you'll see them here.

The countryside reminded Madeline of her parent’s home in Mississippi. The thick green trees and the low brush were picturesque. What birds she could imagine they must have would sound sweet and cheerful. I will miss the southern birds, she thought. A frown momentarily creased her forehead before she forced blankness back to it. _Mustn’t let them see that._

The dirt road seemed never ending, curving this way and that through the mountains. Further and further up they went, Mr. Corsair at the wheel and she in the back seat. Her temporary legal guardian, Mr. Corsair had tried his best to see to Madeline’s needs. Not that she would recognize his choices as being best for her. She was resolved to hate him for the rest of her life, and there was nothing to be done against it. He had taken her away from her family and was sending her to an institution for the mentally insane. How could someone so cruel be doing right by her? She scowled out the window at the thought of it, but again her face became neutral after a moment. _Mustn’t let them see that._

Finally, a large wrought-iron gate came into view, guarded by men in security uniforms. Tilting her head to get a better view, she considered the men she could see. Young, maybe mid- to late-twenties. Clean shaven and short cropped hair, good. Lousy posture, though. As one of them spoke to Mr. Corsair, she saw his yellowed teeth and presumed that either he smoked or kept poor hygiene. Either way, automatic failure. None of them being of any importance to her, she sighed heavily and leaned back into her seat as the car began to pull forward again.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what she could about the institution. The Marchaire Institute, named after some rich donor family, she assumed. A place for troubled children, someone had said. Troubled? Who had the authority to say she was troubled? That idiot judge, supposedly. Would she be locked in a cell with a mad woman in a straight jacket? Forced to eat beside gibbering lunatics? If she were to finish school at all, would her graduating class contain violent murderers and psychopaths? What intelligent man would marry her, a graduate of a school of such low position? 

“Well isn’t that a sight? It looks better than the brochure.” Mr. Corsair cut into her thoughts. She refused to grant him the satisfaction of looking. If he were to look back to check on her, which he did an irritating amount, he would only see her determined but restful face, eyes closed against whatever must have moved him to speak. She imagined that the better she looked, and the more out of touch she was, the more guilty he would feel when he left her here. Which was what he deserved. 

Only when the car finally stopped did Madeline open her eyes. A quick glance out the window told her that two men in white uniforms were coming to open her door, which was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. One went to collect what little luggage she had been allowed to bring, while the other offered her a helping hand out of the car. Her gloved hand in his, she gave him a smile. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, miss. My name is Taylor. I’ll be escorting you both to the head office, and then you alone to your room.”

“Mr. Corsair will leave after the meeting, then?”

“Yes miss. There will be time for goodbyes, if you’d like.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but thank you Taylor.”

As Taylor led Madeline and Mr. Corsair up the front steps, Madeline checked herself. _Polite, sweet, thankful. Used his name again to make it stick. No coarseness to her attitude. Uncle James would be pleased. Maybe this place won’t be so bad, after all._

  


The meeting was boring to Madeline, as the adults mostly talked over, about, and around her, but she did pick up that Dr. Gunner would be her psychologist, Prof. Reese would be her educational advisor, and that any misbehaving would carry with it serious punishments. They gave her a booklet which covered the rules, her schedules, and a small who is who of the important staff, in the back. 

Mr. Corsair tried to give her a comforting goodbye, but when he moved in to hug her, she stiffly offered her gloved hand for a shake instead. She was pleased to see his dismay, but still felt a drop in her stomach as he walked away. He was really leaving her there. This was it, no more pretending. 

She sighed before squaring her shoulders and turning back to the adults present. Professor Reese had already left, but Dr. Gunner was watching her curiously, like a cat watches a bird pecking in its lawn. His attention made color rise in her cheeks, which made her turn quickly to Taylor. True to his word, he was there to take her to her room. 

“Miss Adelle,” Dr. Gunner spoke up, his voice accented with his native tongue, “I do hope that our next few years together can be productive. I do not believe that you are beyond the reach of medical sciences, as some other seem to.” 

“Then I hope you can explain what is supposedly wrong with me, doctor, when we meet again. I’m still rather confused on that subject.” 

He didn’t smile, as Madeline would later learn he was not the kind of man who smiled, but a smirk might have been said to have shown in the corner of his mouth as the prim, stuffy, overly mature fifteen-year-old girl walked away from him. Her history was a nightmare, and her response to that nightmare had been reasonable, up to a point. He was keen to solve the puzzle that Madeline Adelle would prove to be, and he was sure that in time, all puzzles could be solved. 

  


“I’m sorry Mr. Taylor, but there must be a mistake. This can’t be my room.” 

Madeline’s hurried whisper was almost frantic after seeing her room, and her roommate. 

“Everyone has a roommate here, Miss. And she’s as tame a girl you could hope for. Why don’t you try to get to know her a bit before dinner?” 

Peeking back around the door, Madeline took another look at the small girl. Supposedly, she and Rose were the same age, but Rose was so small she barely appeared to be ten. Her clothes were obvious handouts, patched and ill-fitting. Her thick black hair had been braided back from her face, leaving nothing to soften the angles of her sharp features. Though how her hair had been braided was a mystery to Madeline, because half of her left arm was missing. Madeline shook her head and tried again. 

“I just... Well you say she’s a kind girl, and the judge said I’m a danger to myself and others. Maybe you’re putting her in danger?” 

He chuckled at that and nodded as if he understood her apprehension. 

“Your pretty luggage is already on your bed, and I bet Miss Rose would love to see all the pretty things you brought with you. From what I hear, you two have quite a bit in common.” And with that, he gave her a short nod before leaving, putting a final end to the discussion. 

Taking a deep breath, Madeline reminded herself that a lady must be a lady in every aspect, and that to waver would be to fail. Tugging nervously at the edges of her gloves, she turned and went into her room, preparing to face whatever was ahead.


	2. Rose in the Garden

Standing in the doorway, Madeline took in the room and its occupant. Mirrored on each side, the room had two beds, dressers, and desks, easily distinguishing each girls’ space from the others. Roses’ belongings all looked to be handed down or donated, but well cared for. Her bed quilt, while old, was well mended, and her pillowcase had embroidered flowers on it. And there she sat, the new roommate, patient and quiet as Madeline adjusted. 

“That’s some fine luggage ya got there, is it ya mommas?” Rose asked, after a moment or two. 

“No, it’s mine. I couldn’t bring the whole set, though. Said I wouldn’t have the room to bring too much.” 

Looking at the small sort of closet/dresser combo, she was disappointed to see they were right. She would have to get creative to store what she had managed to pack, unless she gave in a used her luggage as storage as well. 

“Do you think I’ll have the time to unpack before dinner?” 

“I dunno. Dinner’s in an hour or so.” 

Nodding with a small sigh, Madeline began unzipping her bags. Dress after dress after dress came out of her case, neatly folded in piles. Uncle James had always seen to her wardrobe, surprising her with cool sundresses for the summer and warm underthings for the winter. Each item that she put away had been hand picked by him to flatter her appearance, to improve her. She worried, if she grew any taller, who would buy her new things? Where would her clothes come from if something happened to these? Would he be able to help her from his… 

Tears began welling up in her eyes as she sat down on the edge of her bed. She ran a finger over the collar of the dress in her hands. He thought the collar looked too childish, but she had begged him. It reminded her of the dress from the children’s book, Madeline. She’d even gotten a hat to complete the look. But the hat was gone. The house was gone. Uncle James was gone, like mom and daddy before him. 

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until she felt a hand rubbing her back. Sniffling, she looked up to see Rose by her side. Not looking at her, not judging her, just looking solemnly at the floor while she rubbed her back. 

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m not normally such a mess.” 

“My first few weeks were hard here, too. Were you left, or taken?” 

“What?” Madeline dried her eyes on the back of her gloves, trying to regain her composure. 

“Most everybody here was either left by their family, or what was left of their family, or they were taken by the state. I was taken. Pastor Thomas tried to bring me home, worthless as I am, but the police took him too. They took everybody.” 

Madeline lay a hand on Roses knee. “I’m so sorry, that sounds terrible. I suppose, by that definition, then I was also taken. Uncle Thomas wouldn’t have let me go under any other circumstances.” 

“Your ma and pa?” 

Madeline shook her head. She hadn’t talked about her parents much over the past few years, and wasn’t about to start now. Rose didn’t pry though, and instead picked up another dress from her luggage. 

“You got anything needs folding? I’m not great with hangers, but I can fold things well enough.” 

“No,” Madeline said with a smile. She really was kind a kind and sweet girl. What was she doing here? “All my dresses will be hung up, and my underthings are all folded already. My winter stuff will probably stay in there until the weather turns, though. I don’t think I’ll have the room.” 

Rose almost laughed, but didn’t. Instead she handed Madeline her things, one by one, trying to help by being companionable. The clothes were sorted and stashed away, and the few belongings she had been permitted were quickly tucked away in desk drawers or displayed atop it. Small talk helped to keep her mind from wandering, and by the time the dinner bell rang, Madeline was feeling better. 

  
Girls poured out of their rooms and all traveled together towards the cafeteria. Rose pointed out directions to the medical wing, the school building, and the boy’s dorm, as they walked. No one joined them as the collected their meals, though pointed whispers made it plain that she had been noticed as a new girl. 

As they sat down together, a nurse strolled by with a trolley. 

“Rose, my dear, here you go.” She said, handing over a small bag with medicine in it. 

“Thanks,” Rose said, almost grumpily. 

“And you must be the new girl, Madeline? I don’t have anything for you yet, but I’m sure you’ll be on the rounds before bed. Enjoy your dinner.” 

After watching Rose take her pills, the nurse rolled away to see to other children. Preparing to ask what the nurse meant, Madeline was interrupted when two boys sat down across from them. 

“Can we sit with you, crazy girls?” 

“Go away,” Rose murmured under her breath. “Leave her be.” 

“Shut up, cripple. We’re talking to the new crazy girl.” 

Madeline stiffened, listening to them talk. This was what she had been afraid of. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rose begin to eat as quickly as possible. She decided to follow suit. Better to get it over with. The boys, however, were taking their time. They were both bigger than she, solid like sports players, but with sneering faces that begged to be set right by someone who knew better. They poked and jeered with their words, both girls remaining silent. 

_A lady’s grace is in how she faces adversity. A lady does not yell. A lady does not draw attention to herself. A lady does not overreact. A lady is known by her peaceful countenance. A lady is pleasing to all those around her. A lady does not present herself in an unflattering light. An unflattering light. Degradation is unflattering, and surely to defend herself and her friend would be to her benefit. But a lady does not yell. A lady does not draw attention to herself. A lady is not a fool._

“What, may I ask, are your names?” She asked, interrupting another of their rude comments. 

“I’m Tanner, and this is Blake.” 

“Well Tanner, Blake, I hope that I might ask that you never sit with us again, as my friend and I find your company repulsive. As I’m sure many at this institution might find reason to agree with us, I would suggest keeping to yourselves from now on. Now if you please, Rose and I will leave you both.” 

Rising as quickly as she could, she took hold of Roses’ hand and practically drug her out of the cafeteria and into the gardens outside. 

_A lady does not make a scene._

In no particular direction, she continued to drag Rose at a fast pace through the flower gardens. 

_Madeline, what have I told you about your temper?_

The gravel crunching beneath her shoes came to a skidding halt as she abruptly stopped. Rose almost bumped into her, surprised by the stop. 

_Madeline, what have I told you about your temper? What good has ever come from a lady’s temper? A man’s temper is quick to rise, and the only balm for it is the peace and control of a good woman. Her temper only escalates the fight, drawing it out long past its life. Now tell me, what have I told you?_

“A lady does not have a temper,” she whispered. “A lady does not lose her control.” 

“Temper feeds conflict, patience calms quarrels. Proverbs... something.” Rose whispered behind her. 

Madeline shook her head, coming back to the moment. Her Uncles’ voice fading as she took a breath. “Proverbs?” 

“I never could remember the numbers, but I got the point of ‘em. Girls can’t be mad, that’s not how God made us. That’s the poisoning of Eve. Girls are supposed to be meek and mild.” 

Madeline nodded as Rose shuffled her feet in the gravel. 

“Uncle James taught me that a lady was supposed to be graceful and in control of herself. Anger makes you act out foolishly. I suppose that’s the same thing as your proverbs.” 

“Your uncle wouldn’t let you be treated that way by those boys though, huh? I bet he would have set them straight. Doctor Anna says that since I don’t have Pastor Thomas to set my path for me anymore, I have to set my own. Sometimes, that means doing a man’s’ duty. I guess, what I mean is, thank you for standing up to him for me.” 

Squeezing her hand, Madeline smiled. She didn’t like the thought of having to defend herself against all sorts of horrible people here, but Rose was right. Uncle James wasn’t here to defend her. He wasn’t here to tell her the right and wrong ways of reacting to situations. She would have to take what she knew and work from there, trying to be a good woman and not lose herself. In the meantime, Roses’ moral compass seemed aligned to her own. Though she was not religious herself, she appreciated the calming influence the small girl seemed to have on her. 

  
Later that night, after a nurse had come by with a dose of medicine and a call for lights out, Madeline lay in her foggy thoughts. She smiled, remembering the weird look on Rose’s face at the sight of her hair curlers. She remembered the lady at the salon teaching her how to take care of her hair every night, how to curl them just right and how she should sleep as still as she could so as to not unravel them. There, though, her memory slipped away. She tried to catch it, hold on to the joy of it, but it was gone. Her limbs were like lead beside her. She tried to tell Rose good night, but the words didn’t form. In the morning, Rose would tell her about the sleeping pills they give the new kids, to help keep them from crying and disturbing the others. But for now, she simply slept a deep and dreamless sleep. No concerns, no sad memories, just rest.


End file.
